The story of us
by undercoversherlock
Summary: Calypso Devins has moved house six times, and is about to move into her seventh. Detesting the move and her mother's new boyfriend, Calypso thinks this is just about the worst it can possibly get. But then she sees the gorgeous blond haired boy from next door and thinks it may not be so bad after all. But what do the spirits of Murder House want from her? AU where Tate's alive.
1. Moving yet again

I let the music wash over me as I stared out of the window of the car. We were moving…again. Of course we were moving. This was the sixth time now and I had grown accustom to not getting attached.

"I'm sorry Cal," my mother said, turning around in the passenger seat to pat my knee gently, "I promise this is the end. The house is perfect, and the area is really good. I promise this is the last time." She assured me gently. I barely heard the words over the bass of the song bursting my eardrums, but I just smiled and nodded at her.

Giving my leg one last squeeze, my mother turned back around and resumed talking to Pete. I knew that she wouldn't be able to keep that promise, but I'd accepted that after the third move, knowing she would never be truly happy anywhere we settled. Which is why I'd also just thought of it as me and her.

With every new city and house came a new guy. He was generally the reason we moved.

My mother thought that she had terrible luck with love. Yeah right. Firstly, there is no such thing as luck, and secondly, it wasn't that love didn't find her, it was that she was constantly thinking she was falling in love with the newest guy that she barely knew.

Pete had been mowing our lawns for two weeks before my mother swooped in and claimed she'd found her soul mate. I didn't say it aloud, but the only thought running through my head as the new happy couple told me we'd be moving, was that I'd been told the exact same thing about the last four guys.

My mother would never cheat, oh no that was below even her. She just got so carried away that it was like she painted half the room blue before deciding she actually liked it green, then repeating that with pink, black and red.

At this point I'd grown so dizzy from the fumes that I'd decided to leave the room.

I spent the rest of the car trip ignoring Pete's attempts at small talk, contenting myself with staring out of the window as the streets began getting smaller and smaller and more and more houses appeared.

We stopped in front of a fairly large brick house, a perfectly manicured lawn stretched out to the gravel path outside the doorway and the dark-greyish brown roof appeared to be soaking up the bright sun.

"It's perfect!" My mother exclaimed with a little clap of her hands. I just nodded with a purse of my lips, eyeing the house and Pete as he loaded his arms with bags.

"Why don't you help Pete unload and I'll start sorting the boxes into the right rooms?" she suggested, heading inside, her dyed platinum blonde hair swinging in its ponytail as she went. I sighed and reached into the boot of the car to grab as many bags as I could.

"Thanks for handling this so well, Calypso." Pete said with a small smile as I passed him on the way inside. My response was a grunt as I walked in, my eyes scanning my new 'forever' home. High ceilings and fake crystal chandelier lights, a white tiled floor and marble kitchen bench.

"Great." I muttered, setting the bags onto the floor of what I assumed would be the living room with the others.

"Isn't it just!" My mother's happy sigh was breathy and I controlled my sarcastic reply in want of staring blankly at her for a few seconds. Turning to me with a box labelled 'kitchen' in her arms, her smiled faltered and for once the light in her eyes seemed to dim.

"I know this is hard for you Cal, but you know, you're just going to have to deal with it. You're not the only one who has had to leave a few friends behind, you know." Her voice wasn't harsh or anything, but it certainly wasn't kind either.

"Whatever, mum." I acknowledged her words only just and then proceeded to turn and walk away without looking back, heading back outside to the car to get more bags.

An hour later I was lying on the floor of my new bedroom, staring up at the bare white ceiling (something would have to be done about that) contemplating when my bed would arrive. According to Pete the furniture had been delayed and there was no telling how long it would be. At least I had my easel and paints. With a sigh, I rolled onto my back and stared at the blank canvas, currently resting on the easel, upside down hoping that would help picturing what I would create on its surface.

This was a process I always had to go through when painting or drawing, I had to see what it would be before I picked up the paintbrush or pencil, otherwise I'd spend hours staring at a blank page.

And suddenly I knew. Rolling onto my knees I approached the canvas and began to sketch the delicate lines of the silhouette. It showed a girl looking through a window, towards the house beside hers. Much as I was doing now I realised with a start.

I hadn't noticed that I could see our next door neighbours' house from my bedroom window, and my hand stopped sketching as I stared.

Made of red brick, with a tiled black roof, it was a wonder I hadn't noticed the mansion beside us. A large number of windows covered the entirety, ensuring another wonderment over how I hadn't seen inside it yet.

But then I could, through the window that was almost directly opposite mine, as a set of black curtains were pulled back, revealing a young male, about my age. Grinning he waved, making me blink furiously for a second before raising my own hand in acknowledgement. He had a shock of unruly blond hair that covered his eyes as his head ducked down, breaking eye contact.

Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all.


	2. School

**Author's note**

Quick shoutout to the first follower: CaptinThor

Thanks for reading ;)

* * *

It would be perfectly reasonable to assume that I did not sleep very well that night, without a bed and all. So when I rocked up to my new school the next morning, Westfield High it was called, my purplish red hair was swept into a messy bun and I knew I had bags under my eyes. However, I'd deemed arriving at school on time more important that putting on makeup, so I'd skipped doing that.

I could feel people staring as I walked through the halls, trying to find the administration building, so I gave them something to stare. I smiled and nodded as people looked me up and down, giving a little wave to the most obnoxious looking. It was fun seeing their shocked expressions, as if I wasn't supposed to acknowledge them. But it did what I'd wanted it to do. They quickly looked away, refusing to give any more signs that they were watching my every move.

Good for them.

I was just about to give up searching and ask someone where to go to get my timetable when my shoulder was being tapped.

"Hey there." the guy from next door said, his dark eyes crinkling as he grinned at me.

"Uh...hi…" was the best response I could manage to get out. He was wearing a rather ugly, oversized mustard yellow sweater, black jeans and converse. Not that I could talk with my black combat boots and tights, and oversized purple shirt.

"The girl from the window, right?" He asked, sticking his hand out in front of him. I gripped it and shook it a few times, nodding as I did.

"Yup. And you're curtain boy." I replied.

"Well, new next door neighbour…you appeared to be rather lost so I figured I would take mercy upon you and show you around. Name's Tate by the way." Was the instant reply as I was suddenly looking at the back of his blond head which was disappearing through the growing crowd as I stared after him.

Hurrying to catch up I allowed Tate to show me around, thanking him profusely as he led me to the office where I finally received my timetable.

"Good to see you've made a friend." The lady at the counter, stuffed into a very tight hot pink dress, said as she slid various pieces of paper over to me. The comment itself wasn't unusual in the slightest, in fact at all my new schools it had often been said when I'd found some random group to attach myself to during my short stay. The interesting thing about it this time however, was that it didn't appear to be directed at me, but rather at, my new so called friend.

"Well thanks for showing me around, Tate." I said with a smile as we walked out of the office, pausing in the seemingly endless hallway. Generic navy blue lockers lined the walls and the grey linoleum beneath my feet squeaked as I shuffled my shoes.

"No problem window girl," Tate winked, giving a small wave as he headed off, presumably to his own lessons.

"Name's Calypso, not window girl." I called out to his back, but he didn't seem to hear me. Sighing, I looked down at my timetable and groaned. Math. Distaste for the subject would be putting it mildly to say the least. It was more of a loathing.

Yes, loathing would be accurate.

I dragged my feet as I made my way to the room, reluctance preventing me from walking too fast.

"How was school, sweet heart?" My mother called as I walked in the door. I barely registered the question as I stared at the mess that was our new house.

"Ah…" was the only noise that came out of my mouth as I stared at the furniture. Yes, the furniture had finally managed to make its way to the Devin residence, but it wasn't our furniture.

"You like it?" My mother asked, beaming as she finally walked into view, "Pete surprised me and bought it all new!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together in that increasingly irritating display of happiness.

"All?" I asked hesitantly, my eyes finally tearing away from the new leather couch and glass dining table. My mother hesitated before nodding slowly, as if afraid of my response. Damn right she should be afraid.

I dropped my bag to the ground as I tore up the stairs to my room, swinging the door open wide.

A wave of revulsion rippled through me, making me shiver with disgust as I looked at my new bed. A plain black leather headboard had replaced my old, silver metal one and a pang of sadness swept through me instead of disgust. My father had designed the head board for my old bed, the intricate swirls of the metal combing to create a bigger mandala-like design.

Growling with anger, my eyes swept the room, determining what else had been taken from me. My wooden desk had been replaced with one made of shiny black glass and instead of my stool, a leather office chair was tucked beneath it. And then I realised that something was missing.

I spun on the spot, frantically searching, and then I was no longer revolted, or angry, a deep-rooted anguish was filling me, making my hands shake.

They'd taken my easel.

"MUM!" I screamed, only to find her right at the door.

"Calypso, look honey-" she began, trying to soothe me, but I wouldn't have it.

"You took my easel! Why?" I demanded, interrupting her without hesitation.

"You're so…obsessed with that…thing…you're always hiding away up in your room. I figured it would be good for you to have to go out and make some friends for once." she said, placing her hands on her hips, as if daring me to challenge her authority.

She was in for a surprise.

I walked over and gripped the handle to my door. I think she could feel the anger rolling off me in waves, because for a second, as I stared her down, she faltered and slightly worry flickered in her silvery grey eyes. The only thing we had in common.

And then, without any regret, I slammed the door in her face.


	3. Someone to talk to

**Author's Note**

Thanks for the reviews!

 **sheescapeswithwords**

 **I love it so far! I hope you continue. Awesome job. ")**

 _Thanks so much! I'm so glad you enjoy it and I most certainly will be continuing with this :) Also thanks for following!_

 **Guest**

 **It's really cool, thanks for giving me a shout out btw, you're doing well with the story and I am intrigued on where tate and calypso will go**

 _All good! I enjoy doing that for the people who read my work! It's a little thank you back to them for putting up with my wacked out upload schedule and sometimes horrible writing XD I am also intrigued to see where Tate and Calypso go *wink wink*_

* * *

I was pacing.

I had been for a few hours now.

Unable to stop the nervous energy that was making my hands shake and head pound, I'd taken to pacing across the length of my room, biting at the tips of my fingernails as I did. I felt lost without my easel.

A present from my father when I was three, the easel had seemed monstrous to me at the young age, as if there was endless possibilities with this towering piece of wood and metal. As I'd grown older and older, the easel had been a constant companion to my room, even when my father was gone and I was moving around with my mother. It was the one thing, along with my bed, that we'd always had a silent agreement to never leave behind or get rid of.

But now she'd taken both.

Even when she knew how much they meant to me, one of my last connections to the only man who could ever call himself my father, was now torn from my grasp.

I suddenly found myself staring out of my window, the nervous energy dissipating with a sudden whoosh, leaving me feeling empty and cold. A deep yearning pulsed in my hollow chest, the ghost of a pencil poised in my fingers as I unconsciously reached for the place my easel had been.

I felt my face crumple as my hands touched empty air, and I stood, staring at my window blindly, hand outstretched slightly as I tried to get used to the idea that it would no longer be there.

Another face joined my reflection, and I had to blink a few times before realising it wasn't a reflection in my window, but Tate, looking through his across at me. He was waving.

I clenched my fingers in the open air, a sigh of defeat whispering from my mouth as I forced my lips to curve into a smile as I raised my hand in acknowledgement of my neighbour. Tate then ducked his head, disappearing for a second from my view, before he suddenly popped up again, this time holding a notebook.

He'd scrawled two words on the paper and they made the air leave my lungs.

'You okay?' His hand writing was messy and bold, but still legible. I smiled weakly again, about to nod and wave away his concern. But then as I considered for a moment, realising the reason I'd been so surprised by the question, I shrugged and let the smile drop, shaking my head a couple times. It had been a long time since someone had asked me if I'd been okay.

My mother assumed that I was dealing perfectly fine with all the moving, because I had never let my grades slip, and she thought the times I left the house for a few hours, to find some peace to read or draw alone, that I was meeting with friends.

Tate was looking down, his hand flying over the notebook once more. Bringing my hand up, my teeth restarted their gentle pulling of the tips of my fingernails, a bad habit that left me with uneven nails. My hand dropped, surprise once more filling me as my eyes flew across the page he was now holding up, reading the words.

'Wanna talk about it?' he'd written, dark eyes scanning my face with what looked like concern over the top of the page. Unsure, I hesitated, not really knowing what I would say. For so long my feelings had been transformed into pictures or colours on a canvas, not words, and so now that I had someone willing to listen to them, I didn't know what to say.

Looking up and meeting his intense, dark gaze, I shook my head, still unsure if I'd made the right choice. Tate frowned for a second before he tapped the page with a slender finger, as if he was asking the question again, just to be sure. I sighed, wondering if I should change my mind. But as I internally debated it, I realised how silly it would sound to anyone but myself.

I mean who really cared that much about an easel? Right?

I shook my head again, determined this time. Tate's head ducked once more, his blond hair falling into his face as he turned to a new page and began writing again, but before I could see what it was, I moved away from the window, collapsing onto my bed instead.

 **The next day**

For my second day of school, I actually kind of tried with the way I looked, braiding my hair and sweeping on some mascara and lipstick. I kind of had this out there idea of trying to meet some new people today, and as I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a few seconds, I tried to work up the determination within me to carry it through.

Sighing, I tugged on the hem of my sweater a little more, trying to fashion it stylishly around my jeans. Giving up I quickly turned away from the mirror, scooping up my back pack and walking out of my room.

"Have a good day, Calypso!" My mother called as I walked out of the door. She'd been overly optimistic since I'd slammed the door in her face, thinking that if she pretended nothing had happened, I would feel better quicker.

She was wrong.

I'd not said a word to her all throughout dinner at our new kitchen table, or when I'd been forced to spend some 'family time' watching a horrible action movie. And I wasn't planning on talking to her until she brought back my easel either.

I had high hopes that I would win the war.

Kicking my feet along the pathway as I walked towards my new school, I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings, and so even though it was unexpected, I wasn't all that surprised when I ended up running into someone.

"Sorry." I muttered, blinking as I looked up into the face of none other than…Tate. The sun was behind his head, silhouetting his face and making his blond hair gleam.

"Hey there window girl." He replied with one of his grins. For a seemingly lonely guy, he sure was smiling a lot.

"It's Calypso. Not window girl." I informed him lightly, stepping sideways past him and then continuing on my way. My new next door neighbour hurried to keep up with a spring in his red-converse covered step.

"All right then _Caly,_ what was with the long face yesterday?" Tate asked, making me glare at the ground. Poor cracked concrete. What had _it_ ever done to me? Nothing.

"It's _Calypso_ ," I repeated, allowing a slight trace of venom to enter into the words, I hated being called Cal or Caly, but my mother did it anyway. "And I don't see why you would care if I was upset yesterday. You don't even know me." I added, kicking at a stone that was resting in the way of my feet.

"Maybe because I'm a nice guy and I care about people." Tate offered, touching my arm lightly, causing us both to stop walking as I looked up at him. "Maybe also because I don't have a lot of friends, and you seem like a nice person." He muttered, letting his hand drop back to his side.

I stayed silent for a few seconds, mulling over this new information. "My mother got rid of my easel." I said in way of reply, beginning to walk again, but slower this time.

"Your easel?" Tate repeated quietly, confusion colouring the two words.

I nodded, "Yup."

"And this is oh so bad because…?"

"You're in for a long story, curtain boy." I sighed dramatically, smiling a little at the mock offended face he pulled when I tacked on the nickname.

"We've got a long walk ahead of us, so get talking, Calypso." Tate invited. And so I did.

I talked until we reached the gates of the school, where we paused to talk some more before heading our separate ways.

Somehow, by the time I'd reached English, I had figured out that I actually kind of felt…better.


	4. Family

**Author's Note**

Sorry for taking eons to upload.

Thanks for all the follows peoples I really appreciate it :)

* * *

I stood, waiting on the corner of the street in the drizzling rain, wondering what the hell was taking so long. It had been a week since I'd moved into the new house, and since that second day of school, it had become a sort of unspoken acknowledgement that Tate and I would wait at the corner and then we'd walk together. I glanced at the watch around my wrist, and bit my lip, debating whether or not it would be worth being late to school. But before I could decide, I heard a front door opening and Tate was running across his front lawn, backpack slung over one shoulder, towards me.

"About bloody time." I admonished lightly, immediately beginning to hurry through the rain as Tate reached my side. He just shrugged and kept walking, his shoulders hunched a little more than normal. It took me a few more streets before I realised that something was bothering Tate. More than just the bad weather. "Hey." I said, knocking my arm against his, making him glance at me. "You okay?" I asked.

"Sure." Was his short reply. I rolled my eyes and tugged on the sleeve of his shirt. How was he not freezing to death without a jacket?

"Come on, curtain boy, I don't know everything about you, but I know somethings up. What is it?" I stopped walking as I asked this, but kept a grip on his shirt so that he couldn't go too far. Water ran in rivulets down both our faces as we stood in silence, Tate refusing to look at me, and me staring him down.

"We're going to be late, Calypso." Tate said quietly, his gaze only flicking towards me once.

"I don't care, Tate. Tell me what's wrong." I demanded, refusing to move. We stood still for another few minutes, and I began to regret this choice, as my clothes were now not only drenched, but waterlogged. The rain wasn't heavy, but it had a certain persistence to it that made you feel like you were drowning if you stood in it for long enough.

"Walk and talk." Tate suggested, and then began walking. I let him go and followed him, waiting for him to start talking. It took him a couple steps, but then, from the corner of my eye, I saw him open his mouth.

"It's nothing really. Just some idiots." He began, to which I nodded, but didn't say anything. This was his story to tell, not mine. "Some idiots made some nasty comments. That's all." He finished.

"I didn't think I'd have to say this to _you,_ Tate, but seriously, who cares what other people say about you? You just gotta-" I began, but he cut me off as we reached the schools gates.

"I don't care what people say about _me,_ Calypso. It's what they say about my family, my mother and sister, which matters." He told me, his words short and sharp. I blinked at him a couple times, unsure what to say. I'd never realised that he had a sister. But before I could formulate any words, he was walking away, leaving me standing alone in the rain in a crowd of people hurrying into the shelter of indoors.

 **That afternoon**

Thankful the rain had cleared up, I stood at the school gates once more, waiting for my neighbour. However, as more and more time dragged on, and he never showed up, I realised that Tate must have left early to avoid walking with me. Great.

Making my way home alone, I thought about what I'd wanted to say to him. I was kind of intrigued, and wanted to meet his family now. If they were as nice as him, then what the hell were people saying about them that was so bad?

I reached my house and went inside, immediately climbing up the stairs to my room, ignoring my mothers' calls to join her in the kitchen. I was maintaining my vow of silence against her if it was the last thing I did. Dumping my backpack onto the ground, I walked over to my window, grabbing up a notebook and pen as I did.

I scrawled down one word to start with, settling in to wait until Tate showed up.

Surprisingly, it didn't actually take that long before I saw him standing at the window, and I waved, holding up notebook which I'd written 'hey' on.

Tate waved back.

I scribbled down two more words, the same ones he'd once asked me. 'You okay?' I held up, and he shrugged, not committing to either a positive or negative answer.

I went to write something else down, but Tate had disappeared from the window and I sighed in frustration. However, he soon reappeared, but someone else was with him. A girl with lovely dark brown hair stared at me thoughtfully, and I waved at her, smiling as well. I watched as Tate said something to his, presumably, sister, who then nodded and walked away.

I flipped to a new page and wrote one word. 'Sister?' Tate nodded as I held it up, so I wrote down another question. 'Can I meet her?' She seemed sweet and I wanted to talk to Tate and find out what people had been saying about her. I waited, watching as Tate debated silently, and then he gestured, motioning that I should come over. I nodded, standing.

But then my mother walked in.

"Calypso, I've had enough of this foolish behaviour." She said. I stared her right in the eyes, but refused to say a word. "This is getting ridiculous! After all of the nice things Pete's done for you, you treat him like this! No word of thanks whatsoever." She sighed angrily as I didn't speak. "I am your mother young lady!" She yelled.

"My mother would never have gotten rid of the only connections I had to my _real_ father." I snapped at her, walking past and out of the room. I'd broken my vow of silence, but it had been worth it. The look on her face had been priceless.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" She screamed after me, following me down the stairs and to the front door.

"Out." I replied, shutting the door behind me and hurrying out onto the sidewalk. Glad she didn't try to follow me, I made my way over to Tate's house and knocked on the front door.

I shuffled my weight from foot to foot impatiently as I waited, relieved as the door finally opened. Tate's sister stood before me, only her head poking through the open doorway.

"Hi there. I'm Calypso, from next door." I introduced myself. The girl just stared at me, her full fringe hanging slightly to the side as her head tilted.

"Addie. Let her in." Tate's voice came from behind the closed door, and suddenly his blond head appeared, his pale hand gripping the edge of the door and opening it wider, admitting entry to me. I stepped inside, a shiver running down my spine as I crossed over the threshold. Something seemed…off.


	5. Coming to an agreement

**Author's Note**

Once again, I apologise for not uploading in forever (also for how short this chapter is), but I lost the inspiration for this story. It's back though, so we'll see how this goes ;)

Thanks for all the favourites and follows as well! Please leave a review letting me know what you think/what you'd like to see happen :3

* * *

A short while later I was standing in Tate's kitchen, the surprisingly cold air in the house making me rub my arms for warmth as I looked around.

"Sorry about Addie." Tate apologised as he slumped against the marble-topped island that stood proudly in the centre of the large space. I just nodded non-committedly, placing myself in one of the stools at the island. "She just gets…nervous…around new people." Tate further explained.

"It's fine. I get it. She still seems like a nice girl," I shrugged, then grinned, "Even if she did tell me that the dead people want to talk to me before running away."

Tate ducked his head, smiling. "Yeah, she thinks there are ghosts everywhere in this house. I keep telling her it's nonsense, but…" Tate trailed off here and shrugged, as if that was all there was to know. But there was something about me that Tate didn't know, that would now further this discussion. And so I leant forward slightly, and spoke low.

"You don't believe in them?" I whispered seriously, glancing from side to side as if I was afraid someone would overhear us.

Tate blinked a couple times, seemingly unsure how to reply. "You do?" He asked slowly.

Grinning, I leaned back, but still nodded. "It'd be foolish to think otherwise. I don't think they're out to get us or anything like that, but sure it's certainly possible that they exist."

Tate seemed to consider for a moment, but then slowly nodded. "I suppose that makes sense."

"So…" The word trailed off as a slightly awkward silence settled over us. That issue was soon resolved however, as the front door opened and a loud voice suddenly seemed to fill the entire house.

"Tate, honey! I'm back, what's this about a-" the female's southern accent suddenly matched a face as a women walked around the corner into the kitchen. She had blonde hair that seemed purposefully styled to look effortlessly big and curled. As her brown eyes scanned the kitchen, and rested on me, her thin eyebrows raised slightly. "So, I'm guessing you're the runaway the woman outside is screeching about?" She asked.

I nodded silently.

"CALYPSO RENEE DEVINS YOU GET OUT HERE THIS MINUTE OR I'LL-" My mother's voice boomed through the house, making all three of us flinch. She had an impressive vocal range, that was for sure.

"OR WHAT?" I yelled back, but slid off the chair anyway, not wanting to disturb Tate and his family with her nonsense. "I'll see you later, Tate. Nice meeting you, Mrs Langdon." I waved goodbye as I left the kitchen and made my way to the open front door. My mother stood there, her face full of fury, hands on her hips. "Really, mother? You had to make a scene?" I asked calmly as I crossed the threshold and shut the front door behind me.

Without a word, my mother grabbed me by the arm and dragged me across the front lawn and into our house. As soon as our front door was closed, she let me go and then turned on me.

"How dare you?" She spoke calmly, quietly, but her voice shook slightly with anger. Oh no way in hell was she going to pin this back on me.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I replied equally as calm.

"How could you embarrass me in front of our neighbours like that? What must they think of us if our own daughter runs away?" My mother seemed horrified at the thought.

"For one, who cares what they think? As well, I didn't run away mother, I went to a friends' house to chat. Also, it's your fault I left in the first place. If you just _talked_ to me like, I don't know, I was a _normal human being_ then maybe I wouldn't have to walk away." My mother flinched at the words, but they seemed to sober her up a bit, and she took a step back, her face no longer creased with anger.

Instead a weary sadness seemed to make her shoulders droop a little.

"Look, Caly, sweetie. I just want you and Pete to get along. I'm trying really hard to make this work for good this time, and I just, I don't know what to do when you distance yourself so much."

My defences dropped a little at her sincerity, and for once, I thought about what my mother was going through.

"Look," I sighed, leaning against the door, "I'll try and get to know Pete a little better, if you back off a bit, okay?" I offered. My mother looked up at me, a small smile creasing her mouth. She nodded. "But, I want my easel back." I added, to which the smile fell.

"Calypso, you know how I feel-"

"Give it back to her, Georgia." Pete spoke up from the living room, and I suddenly realised he had overheard all of what we'd just said.

I looked past my mother at the dark-haired bearded man and made eye contact. I nodded stiffly in thanks. Pete dipped his head in return.

My mother sighed loudly. "Fine." She snapped, and then walked away. "You'll have it by tomorrow." She called over her shoulder, going to sit with Pete on the couch. After a second's hesitation, I joined them. Normally I would have gone up to my room, but tonight, I didn't, deciding to honour the deal I'd made with my mother.

"What are we watching?" I enquired as I tucked my feet up underneath me, sinking into the squishy cushions of the couch.


	6. A highschool party

I was going to a party. My first ever high school party. Janet, a girl who sat beside me in maths and shared my extreme dislike for the subject, had demanded I come and without thinking I'd agreed. Now I was kind of regretting it. I'd been here for about a month and the only people I really knew was Tate and Janet.

Socialising at this party was going to be difficult.

I'd asked Tate to come along, so I would at least have one person to talk to, but he'd refused, claiming that he wasn't one for high school parties where all anyone did was get trashed.

I'd been kind of disappointed, but figured Janet would be there, although she was hosting the party, so she probably wouldn't have much time to sit with me the whole night.

This was a bad idea.

Picking up my phone from where I'd dropped it on my bed, I typed up a text to Janet, letting her know I wouldn't be coming.

Yeah, that was the safer option. This way I couldn't embarrass myself in front of anyone, and I wouldn't be stuck in a corner alone the whole night, with only the snacks for comfort.

I hesitated before I pressed send, however, and then as if she knew what I was thinking a message from Janet popped up.

"Don't you dare think about backing out. You need to make more friends." I read the message aloud to myself, unable to stop the grin. Even in the brief time we'd known each other, she'd gotten to know me well.

Deleting the message I'd been about to send, I typed a new one. ' _Wouldn't dream of it. What should I wear?'_

Her response consisted of two words that weren't very helpful. Something sexy, she'd said. What the hell did that mean?

In the end I decided to go with a pair of black skinny jeans and a grey crop top. Janet probably wanted me to rock up in a mini skirt and thigh-high boots, but unfortunately for her, my wardrobe did not consist of those items.

Tugging on some converse I grabbed my phone and made my way to the party.

I could hear the music the moment I got to the street, the large house with flashing lights and a whole bunch of cars parked out front was hard to miss.

Kind of surprised the cops hadn't been called yet, I walked through the open front door to be greeted by a mass of people.

I couldn't see Janet anywhere, and so I squeezed through the crowd until I managed to make my way outside, which was slightly less crowded but not by much.

Swiping a drink from an ice filled bucket, I carefully avoided the splash zone of the pool and found a relatively quiet place to sit. An unoccupied sun lounge gave me the perfect chance to sit and collect myself. Okay so it would seem socialising was going to be harder than I thought.

Everyone seemed to be in pairs or groups, quite happily talking to the people that they knew. I still couldn't see Janet anywhere. I assumed she was inside somewhere in the massive throng of people dancing.

I was studiously avoiding looking at a couple who were making out almost straight in front of me sitting on the edge of the pool when a nearby voice broke my concentration.

"Hey." I stared at the couple for a few seconds, before snapping myself out of it, blinking furiously a few times before looking up and to my left.

"Mind if I share your seat, everywhere else seems to be occupied?" The guy had brown hair and his eyes seemed to be smiling at me, little crinkles around the edges of them. I nodded silently, unsure what to say as I moved closer to the edge of the seat so that he could sit.

"Name's Kaleb." He introduced himself, sticking his hand out for a handshake.

"Calypso." I replied, gripping his hand and shaking it once.

"You're new here, aren't you?" Kaleb asked suddenly, to which I once more nodded silently. "You don't talk much, do you?" He added, a small smile creasing his face as he asked.

"I talk when there's a need to." I replied slowly, wondering what he would say to that.

"Perfect, because, as you've probably noticed, I like to talk a lot. Doesn't matter what about, I guess I just like hearing my own voice. That's what people tell me anyway, and if you're new here, that means you haven't heard any of my stories. Which is, as I said, perfect, because I'm running out of people to tell them to." Kaleb actually paused for a proper breath after all of that and took a sip of his drink.

Deciding not to say anything, my grin matched his as he turned to me and proclaimed that he thought we would, indeed, be very good friends. I couldn't help but agree.


	7. A new friend

**A/N:**

 **After a very long hiatus - here's chapter seven! Hope you enjoy and please keep up the reviews, it keeps me motivated XD**

* * *

The time suddenly seemed to fly by with Kaleb telling me story after story, never seeming to stop for a proper breath. Although I could barely get a word in, I honestly didn't mind, quite content to just sit and listen and not have to do the talking, as I often found myself doing with Tate who was quieter than even me for the most part. It was also interesting to hear stories about all my class mates, half of which I hadn't formally met yet, but Kaleb pointed out to me if they were at the party.

"Calypso!" Janet's loud call interrupted Kaleb mid-sentence, and for once he trailed off as Janet approached us. She was swaying slightly from side to side as she walked, but I wasn't sure if that was from her eight-inch heels or what was in the plastic cup she was carrying.

I watched her, smiling in amusement as she practically fell onto the sun lounge with Kaleb and I, taking up any remaining space that had been left.

"You made it!" Janet exclaimed happily, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I thought you'd bailed on me!" She added, her voice still loud in my ear. I determined that her swaying had been from what was in her cup, as she couldn't seem to work out how to control how loud she was speaking.

"Of course I made it, I promised I'd be here and here I am." I reassured her.

We lapsed into an awkward silence as Janet just nodded, her eyes glazing over slightly as she watched the people splashing in the pool. I was surprise Kaleb hadn't started up his latest story again, and was just about to prompt him to, when Janet suddenly spoke again.

She turned to me, a suddenly serious look on her face.

"Now, Calypso, you know I love you, but, I thought I told you to wear something sexy." She said, my force broke out into a grin and I was actually about to laugh, but as Janet's straight-faced expression didn't change, I faltered.

We lapsed into a silence once more as I faltered, unsure what to say to that.

"My outfit isn't that bad." I tried, but Janet just shook her head, sighing softly and pat me on the shoulder.

"Oh, Calypso. Sweet, sweet Calypso. No guy is going to be interested in a 'isn't that bad' outfit. You need something that says 'hey, I'm here, single and ready to mingle'." I frowned at Janet's words, unsure when we'd decided I was trying to get a guy interested in me, and how a piece of clothing could suggest that I was 'single and read to mingle'.

"If it helps, I think you look good." Kaleb interjected before I could get a reply in. I smiled at him in thanks.

"See, Kaleb thinks my outfits fine." I appealed to Janet. Once more she just sighed and patted me on the shoulder.

"Yeah. He thinks you look _good_. Not _sexy_ or _fabulous_ or _hot_. _Good._ Calypso, there's so much to teach you." And then Janet was dragging herself up, cup still in hand and swaying away.

"Your friend is weird." Kaleb said into the silence that had fallen as we'd watched Janet walk away.

"Yup." I agreed.

"I think the three of us will be great together," he added, "a force to be reckoned with. Best friends forever."

"Sounds like fun."


	8. Standing up

**A/N:**

I upload when I upload sorry for the long wait XD

Thanks for the new followers and favourites!

Comments keep me motivated - if I take too long start badgering me for more to get me going!

 **Reviews:**

 **laufeyhela**

 **I just started Reading But the story is so Good! I hope you will update again!**

 _It's thanks to comments like yours that I do keep updating! Thanks for reading and reviewing I really appreciate it!_

 **Nymeria-TheLostWolfQueen**

 **Loved it. Please continue. Would love longer chapters**

 _Awesome! I am continuing when I get the motivation - I really am trying to upload more! This is a bit of a longer chapter, but I'll try for even longer next time!_

 **musicluver246**

 **Great story so far.**

 _Happy you like it :) Thanks for reviewing!_

* * *

"Later, losers." I waved over my shoulder as I left the school grounds, Kaleb and Janet going the opposite direction to me.

Ever since the party, the three of us had been hanging out more often than not, calling every little meet up a 'study session' in an attempt to make ourselves feel better about the fact that no work was actually getting done.

It was a Friday afternoon, and we had all finally decided that it was about time to do some catch up, what with final exams just around the corner and all. I hesitated at the school gates, looking around with a slight frown, not seeing Tate. Although I'd been spending a lot of time with Kaleb and Janet, it was still the routine to walk to and from school with him.

I shuffled my feet, glancing at my watch, unsure if he'd left early without me. I was about to turn and just walk home myself, when Tate burst through the doors, walking fast, shoulders hunched. He seemed to be looking at everything and nothing all at once, and as he got even closer, I could hear his ragged breathing, panting as if he had run out of air.

"Tate." I tried to stop him as he walked past me, but he didn't appear to hear me. I reached out and grabbed his arm, the momentum spinning him back around to face me. I faltered at the snarl that came from Tate as he turned to face me, his lip curling with the noise. I took a step back, my hand falling. What the hell was wrong with him? I stood, blinking at him for a solid few seconds of silence, but then Tate took a step back, his eyes widening in shock, mouth turning down at the corners as he finally processed who I was. "Tate. What's going on?" I asked quietly, not making an attempt to reach out to comfort him, unsure of the response that I would get.

Tate sighed and shuffled his feet, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times. "It's-" He finally began, but the sound of the school doors crashing open had him falling silent, his eyes flicking towards the loud sound and then widening in fear, as he took another step back.

I turned on my heel, wondering what had him so scared. Four jock-looking guys were looking around, smiles growing on their faces as their eyes locked onto Tate. "Calypso. Let's go." I heard Tate mutter behind me. I shook my head without saying anything. "Calypso. Please." This time I actually felt a tug on my backpack and glanced over my shoulder at him. He didn't look scared anymore, just resigned, as if this was his everyday life and he just wanted to get it over with. I once more shook my head.

The four jocks were almost here now, having headed towards us when they saw Tate.

"Problem?" I asked before they got too close. They faltered for a second, probably not expecting me to of said anything.

"Boyfriend can't talk for himself?" One of them jeered, making the others snicker. I rolled my eyes visibly and folded my arms over my chest.

"That's not what I asked. You got a problem, or what?" I repeated, speaking slow.

A ripple of shock appeared to go through them, and the smirks lost some of their intensity.

"Yeah, we got a problem. What are you going to do about it?" One of them stepped forward, away from the pack, getting into my space.

"Depends." I kept my voice as calm as possible, holding in each breath to try and slow my breathing, mentally telling my heart to stop its flip flops.

"On?" The guy in front of me challenged.

"How hard you want to make this for yourselves," I replied.

"Oohhh. Is that a threat?" One of the jocks that remained with the group mocked, causing the others to laugh.

"You can either walk away, and I'll forget about this. Or you all can get suspended." I offered, looking at each one of them in turn, a small smile forming as frowns creased their faces. "You see, the days almost over and the principal is about to walk through those doors over there. I don't know about you, but physically threatening the new girl isn't a good look for you." I told them.

"We haven't touched you!" One of them cried, a ripple of anger went through the group.

"You have three seconds." I smiled sweetly, looking towards the doors of the school. Sure enough, they were opening, and the principal stepped out, looking around. His gaze focused on us. "Walk away or I start crying for help," I muttered, beginning to bring my hands up to my face.

"Fine." The jock in front of me growled, turning and walking away, the others trailing behind him.

I didn't stop to watch them, but turned, grabbed Tate's hand and dragged him after me down the street towards home.


	9. Talking

**Author's Note:**

Two uploads in a week? WHAT!?

hahahaha I know it's short, but because you get two in a week, just pretend that it's one long chapter, okay? cool, thanks XD 

anyways, enjoy and I hope to update for you soon!

* * *

"What the hell was that all about?" I demanded as we arrived at the streetlight we waited at outside our houses each morning.

I had unceremoniously dragged a silent Tate all the way back here, him not giving any answers to the questions I didn't know I had. Now that we were here, however, with him looking ready to bolt inside his house and lock the door behind him, I wanted to know.

"What do you mean 'what the hell was that all about?' What the hell is wrong with you?" Tate cried back, ripping his arm from the loose grip I hadn't realised I'd maintained since we stopped walking.

I opened my mouth to respond but faltered. "I helped you."

Tate smiled at that. But it wasn't his nice, _I'm-actually-laughing-for-once_ smile. This was a shit-eating, _oh-you-poor-soul_ kind of smile, and I did not like it one bit. "You actually think you _helped_ me by doing that?" He asked, seemingly almost genuinely surprised as he rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "Oh, Calypso. You've literally done everything _but_ help me."

Once more, my mouth seemed to open by itself, ready to respond, but my mind drew a blank. Was I really that clueless? Tate seemed to be acting like I'd done the worst possible thing in the history of the entire world. But I'd made them walk away, that was the important thing, wasn't it?

"Come on." Tate sighed, and then he grabbed my arm and pulled me up the path to his house and in the front door.

As my mind began catching up with the what was going on, Tate gently pushed me into one of the stools at the kitchen counter, and before I knew it, had a mug of hot chocolate in my hands.

I blinked down at the steaming, brown drink, the rich aroma already making my mouth water.

"You think that they're just going to go after me now as well don't you?" I asked into the silence. Tate didn't have to use his words to respond, the look on his face as I glanced up at him told me all I needed to know. "I've just made myself a social outcast, haven't I?" I muttered miserably, now fearing the worst.

"Nah." Tate's short response made me look up at him in surprise, frowning as he casually sipped on his drink. He looked to me, watching in silence.

"Well?" I demanded as the awkward moment stretched, both of us just looking at each other.

"Well, what?"

"What do you mean I haven't just made a social outcast of out of myself? That's how it goes, doesn't it?" Maybe it was because I was constantly changing schools, and so had never really found the routine of things in one place, maybe I was just a socially inept idiot, but once again Tate seemed to sigh in pity.

"Sure the jocks will pick on you every chance they get, some of the cheerleaders will probably join in eventually, they're all friends," he began.

"Not helping." I sighed miserably, slumping forward and resting my elbows on the counter top.

"But, now don't take this the wrong way – you're not important enough for anyone else to care." Tate patted my back reassuringly after the words and then downed the rest of his hot chocolate. I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face or the huff of amusement as I turned to look at him once more.

"That's really not nice. To hype it up like that." I told him, elbowing his side.

"Hey, I had to get you in here somehow. I've been lonely, what with the fabulous three always 'studying'." Tate's tone was light and joking, as were the air quotes around studying, but as I looked into his eyes, I saw a kind of sadness lurking in the dark brown depths of them.

Maybe Tate wasn't as okay as I thought he was.


	10. Conflict resolution

**Author's Note:**

Hi again!

Wow three uploads within a couple days of each other - what is happening?! (i'm not doing my assignments is what's happening XD)

Anyway, this one is a slightly longer chapter as well, so I hope that you enjoy whilst this story is on a roll.

In other news, I've also begun posting this onto wattpad ~ under the same username (undercoversherlock).

Let me know how you're liking these more frequent uploads and/or if you want longer chapters! :)

Thanks for the new favourites and some new followers, I really appreciate it!

Enjoy the chapter all.

* * *

Over the next week I made sure to try and include Tate as much as possible. Janet and Kaleb didn't seem to mind the new addition too much, probably because Tate was always so quiet around them. We began sitting together at lunch, and Tate joined most of our 'study' sessions, but he never seemed to fully join in on any of the conversations, and I was yet to see one of his rare, actual proper smiles.

Although he did appear grateful to be included, he still didn't really seem happy.

It was after one of our get-togethers that actually involved some studying, that I confronted him about it.

"So, what's up with you?" I queried as we walked home. We'd met at a nearby café, and Tate and I had decided to walk home.

"What do you mean?" Tate asked back, his voice light.

"Don't 'what do you mean' me. I know something's up. You're smiling even less than you usually do, which is a great feat. So, what's up?" I questioned, calling him out on his bullshit.

He sighed but said nothing, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Are you seriously going to make me drag it out of you?" I asked when the silence stretched. Once again, I got no response. "You're hopeless."

"I know." I barely heard the muttered words, but they sent a ripple of shock through me. I had meant them as a joke, as a sigh of exasperation, not literally.

"Tate." A warning note had creeped into my voice as I stopped walking, reaching out to gently put a hand on his arm. Tate continued for a step or two, but then stopped, not looking back at me. "Tate." I put more force into my voice this time, and slowly, the blond-haired boy turned to face me, avoiding eye contact by looking at the ground. "I swear to god if you don't tell me what's wrong this second…" The empty threat trailed off as I realised how truly worried I was for him.

"I'm fine, Calypso. Just a shitty week." He said quietly, glancing up at me before looking away again.

I sighed, not believing him one bit.

"Fine then. But you're coming over to my place to eat ice cream and bitch about our first world problems until you smile." I said, not planning on giving him any say in the matter. Maybe if I could get him talking about other things, he'd eventually open up to me about what the hell was going on with him.

I hoped so, anyway.

"You're literally the worst." I growled, throwing a pillow at Tate's face and wiping the ice cream from my nose. It had been a couple of hours and was now well into the night, but I had gotten him to smile. Some of the weight seemed to have lifted from his shoulders, and he appeared almost at ease as he lounged on my bed, ice cream tub in hand.

"Love you to, Caly." He called after me as I left the room.

Heading to the bathroom, I cleaned the now gooey mess from my hands, and the remains from my face, unable to control the smile that had spread across my face. Sure, I'd just had ice cream launched at me, but I had gotten Tate to smile. That was the important thing.

I retied my hair, and then headed back to my room, pausing as I got to the doorway.

Tate was standing at my window, the ice cream tub abandoned on my bedside table. He appeared to be looking intently at something outside, and I moved quietly forward to see what it was.

"Tate?" I asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder as I squeezed in beside him, trying to see what he was looking at.

"I…uh…I thought I heard something." He offered, backing away from the window, a slight frown on his face.

"Mhmm." I hummed, looking him up and down with a raised eyebrow. I didn't believe a word of it.

"Look, I gotta go." He said quickly, backing away a few steps. He stumbled as his shoulder hit the doorframe, and then he turned and was gone.

I didn't bother trying to go after him. Instead, I went back to my window, looking across at his house, some part of me sure that it was something he'd seen inside his own place that had him running off.

What it could possibly be I had absolutely no idea, but with the way that he had been acting recently, and the look on his face as he'd left my room, I had this feeling that it had something to do with his home life – not just some school bullies.

I stood there, staring (admittedly kind of creepily) at his window for some time, but the light did not turn on, in fact, there appeared to be no movement at all from inside the house.

Uneasiness settled over me as I sighed and moved away from the window, collapsing back onto my bed. I was barely there for a second, before I was back up and pacing around my room.

Tate didn't seem to want to open up about what was going on with him, so I had to figure out another way to help him. Although I wouldn't say that we were incredibly close, Tate had been one of the first people to speak to me at school, and even though he was kind of strange at times, he'd always been incredibly nice to me. There had to be something that I could do.

Moving back over to the window, I groaned slightly in frustration at the still dark room opposite mine. I turned slightly, facing my easel. I didn't currently have a blank canvas, but my sketchbook balanced on the wooden structure, charcoal pencils beside.

Without really thinking, I reached for a pencil and began sketching.

It had been an incredibly long time since I'd started drawing with no plan beforehand, but the lines were beginning to form a picture, and as I finished, I stepped back, away from the drawing, staring at the face looking back at me.

Standing in the window of Tate's room was a woman, probably in her late twenties, with lightly curled fair hair that was pinned back, a delicate looking necklace clasped around her throat. She looked sad. Really sad. I'd drawn her with one hand pressed to the glass, her eyes seemed to be calling for help.

I'd never seen this person before in my life. How had I drawn someone that I didn't know?


	11. A sleepless night

**A/N:**

So I know that it has been a long while and that this is a short chapter, but I've just been really really really really busy with final assessment. I should have more time in the upcoming weeks to write for you guys!

As always, thank you for the latest favourites and follows - they really do mean a lot to me.

Sonic Key

Yes, Nora is here! I love her so much  
Keep up the good work, I love the story so far!

Thanks for the review and I'm glad that you're enjoying the story! Also yes Nora is here - and she may be in a few more chapters *wiggles eyebrows*

ENJOY!

* * *

I shut the screen of the laptop, shoving it away from me across the floor as I stretched my arms over my head. It was two in the morning and I'd just finished my English assignment. Considering that it was due second period that day, I figured that I hadn't done too badly, my procrastination having gotten the better of me on this particular assignment.

Forcing myself to stand, I yawned, wiping a hand over my eyes as I moved towards my window. I planned on sleeping in as much as I physically capable of before school the next morning, which meant I had to shut my currently open curtains, the morning sun having a bad habit of waking me up too early. As I reached the window, my gaze fell onto my still open sketchbook.

It was still sitting where it was the last time I'd used it. Staring back at me was the face of a woman that I did not know – her sad eyes seeming to plead with me for…something.

"What do you want?" I found myself muttering to her, a frown creasing my face as I stared back at the drawing.

With a sigh, I forced myself to turn away from my sketchbook and back to the window, trying to focus on one task at a time so that I could at least get a couple hours of sleep tonight. I looked out of my window at the night sky as I reached for my curtains, pulling both sides closed as I went to step back and away from the window. Before I'd shut them fully however, a movement caught my eye. Thinking that it was Tate, I looked into his window, across from mine, faltering as I saw only darkness. Stepping forward again, I glanced around, looking at the ground below me, and to the street to my left, thinking maybe a bird or a bat had flown past the window. But I saw nothing.

Shaking my head and dismissing the horror-moviesque thoughts, I went to step away from the window once again, but the same movement had my eyes snapping back up, straight to Tate's window. I was sure that it had come from there. Maybe Tate was up and had walked by his window. Yes, that had to be it, there was no other explanation. I forced myself to believe those words as I stood there staring into the room once again. I forced myself to wait – sure that I would see something if I just gave it a little time.

A minute passed. Two minutes. Three.

Nothing.

An actual growl left me as I turned away in frustration, drawing the curtains closed with one harsh pull, I stomped to my bed. Curling up underneath the covers, I clutched a pillow to me, trying to force all thoughts about what I had – or more accurately, hadn't – seen from my mind.

That night, the face of the fair-haired woman haunted my dreams, cutting the already short amount of hours I had to sleep in half. Although she didn't say anything, she kept opening her mouth as she stared at me with those sad eyes, a silent scream seeming to echo in my ears before I'd wake up in a cold sweat, my heart racing.

"You look how I feel." Tate greeted grumpily in the morning, his hair looking even more dishevelled than usual.

"Well I got all of three hours' sleep last night, so what's your excuse?" I shot back, nursing my coffee as I started walking down the street. My head was beginning to hurt at the brightness of the already shining sun, and I kept squinting through the blurriness of my eyes. Today was not going to be a good day.

"Had to sleep on the couch last night. Addie spilled paint and I could barely breathe in there." Tate replied with a sigh, frustration evident in his voice.

Something about his words made me frown, but through the haze of my mind, I couldn't quite seem to work out what it was.

Shrugging, I let the matter slide, deciding to focus on the long day ahead of me instead.

It hit me in the middle of math class, when I was swinging back on my chair, balancing on the two back legs, the end of my pen in my mouth as I stared blankly at the board in front of me. My chair slammed back down to the ground, causing the class to jump at the sudden sound, and I received a glare from my teacher.

If Tate hadn't been in his room last night, then what the hell had I seen?


	12. Tate's house

**Authors' Note:**

Thanks for being patient!

Here's a longer chapter for you (: 

Also thanks, as always, for the new favourites and follows 3

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Tate was blabbering.

I'd stopped listening to the words coming out of his mouth three blocks ago, and yet they continued to flow. Not that I was complaining. It gave me time to think, that was for sure. I didn't know how to ask the question that was burning in my brain, sitting on the end of my tongue, begging to be said out loud.

How did you ask someone if they were sure there was no one in their room last night without sounding like a total, and complete, freak?

The answer was you didn't.

Instead, you made an excuse to get into their house and have a look around – much easier that way.

"Let's study today." I said, interrupting Tate in the middle of a sentence. He blinked at me slowly, mouth still half open from where he had been about to say something.

"Ah, yeah, sure. I guess." Tate replied with a slight frown, suddenly falling silent as we kept walking. I could tell he was confused by my behaviour, and my actually suggesting we study for once since I was always the one objecting to that particular suggestion.

We walked the rest of the way home in silence, for the first time, a kind of awkwardness seemed to hang over us, and I was beginning to wonder if I had played this wrong – maybe it would have been easier to mention it casually, like – _"Oh yeah, I was up late doing the English assignment and saw you walking in your room."_ Or – _"I think Addie tried to clean up the paint last night, I saw someone pacing in there."_

Yeah, way to sound like a stalker much Calypso. No, I had definitely made the right decision.

Finally, we walked up to the corner where we would normally go our separate ways, Tate heading up the path to his front door, and me continuing down a little further before doing the same. Today we both hesitated.

"Do you want to study at yours, Addie's probably just going to keep interrupting if we go to mine." Tate suggested quietly after a few moments of silence. I hesitated, unsure of what to say. The plan had been to get inside Tate's house and have a look around. Although I was unsure what I was looking for and how I was going to search the place without seeming weird, I felt like I had to do this.

"Ah, not really. Thing is, I'm kind of avoiding Pete." I lied. My new step-father was an easy excuse to use, one because Tate had never officially met him, and two, because I had numerous stories about arguments I'd had with him. Me not wanting to be around him for a few hours because we'd had an argument was a believable story, and one that was likely to get Tate to change his mind this time.

"Have another fight?" Tate asked, his brown eyes searching my face suddenly, as if he would be able to glean the answers just by looking at me. I nodded without saying anything, unwilling to delve too deep into the lie. Quiet settled over us as he said nothing further, and for a second I thought that he wouldn't give in. "Fine. Come on." Tate sighed and then turned on his heel and led the way up the path to the front door.

As I followed behind him, I wondered about his initial reluctance to go to his place. Maybe he was avoiding something too? I would have to find out.

Before he could even reach for the door handle, the front door swung open, making Tate roll his eyes as Addie was revealed, smiling widely at us both.

"Tate! Calypso!" She said happily, gesturing at us to come inside. It was apparent that she had been at the front door, waiting for Tate to come home and had watched us walk up to the house.

"Hey, Adelaide." I greeted, ensuring I gave her a big smile and a hug. She was always so happy, and the few times that I had met her, I always felt lighter, as if she was a ray of sunshine, melting all my problems away.

If only.

"Calypso and I are going to study, okay?" Tate was already climbing the stairs, not looking back at either of us as he went.

"See ya' later, Addie." I said quickly, hurrying after him.

"Ugh. Still smells in here." Tate said as he opened the door to his bedroom, nose wrinkling in disgust as he threw his backpack to the ground. I paused for just a second at the entry way to the room, realising with a start that I had never actually been in here. Sure, I'd been inside the house a few times, but most of the time we had just been in the kitchen – I'd never had a reason to go up the stairs before, let alone into Tate's bedroom.

I walked in, recognising the overpowering smell of acrylic paint. In small doses the stuff wasn't too bad, but a spill of it would quickly take over a whole room. I couldn't help but grin as I saw the slightly darker patch of wood.

I had made the same mistake with acrylic paint many times in my artistic youth – I was now almost immune to the smell of the stuff, having refused to sleep anywhere but my own bed when I was younger.

"So – what did you want to start with?" Tate asked, collapsing into the chair at his desk, swivelling it around to face me. I shrugged as I entered the room further, deciding to sit on the bed, sitting my bag on the ground by my feet.

"Bio?" I suggested, making Tate groan dramatically as he reached for his textbook.

"I'll get us some drinks." Tate said as he left the room. I didn't bother responding, knowing he was already gone.

We'd been at it for a few hours now and had begun to shift our attention onto other topics. I was currently laying on Tate's bed on my back, head hanging slightly over the edge, scrolling through my twitter feed.

Movement at the half open door had me rolling over onto my stomach, thinking Tate was back already. Glancing up I was surprised when no one walked through the door. Thinking it may have just been Addie walking past, I continued to scroll until the same movement caught my eye once again.

Frowning, I sat up this time, setting my feet onto the ground, but still sitting on the edge of the bed.

I watched the door intently this time. What the hell was going on in this house.

Just as I was about to give up and deem myself officially crazy, I saw it again.

It was the woman from my drawing, pale hair still delicately curled up, necklace clasped around her pale throat, dress intricately beaded. This time she didn't just walk past the door. She stood in the gap, sad eyes staring into mine.

She raised her hand and gestured at me, as if she wanted me to follow her.

I couldn't stop the scream that tore itself from my throat.


	13. Nora

**Authors' Note:**

I'm back baby!

Hope you enjoy xxx

* * *

The sound of shattering glass seemed to fill my ears and then she was gone, disappearing in the blink of an eye, as if she had never been there in the first place.

"Calypso!" Tate's voice stopped my scream as he appeared in the doorway, replacing the figure that had stood there moments before. "What's going on?" He asked, walking slowly into the room, and towards me. All I could do was sit there in open-mouthed shock, tears beginning to blur my vision as a sudden sadness filled me. "Calypso?" Tate sounded worried, but I couldn't seem to get my mouth to move. In fact, I couldn't seem to get _any_ of me to move. I felt like I had been doused in a bucket full of black paint, the thick mixture weighing me down both physically and emotionally.

Why was I so sad? I shouldn't be this sad.

"Calypso."

That did the trick.

Tate had grabbed a hold of my shoulders and shaken me roughly as he said my name one last time. Finally able to move, I collapsed, shrinking in on myself as I fell into Tate's arms, my head against his chest as the tears finally released, running down my cheeks.

"Tate?" A soft voice had me quietening my sobs, forcing myself to sit up straight. I couldn't seem to manage to get the tears to stop completely though. "What's going on?" It was Adelaide, standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, the other on the frame. "There's glass outside." She added.

"Yeah – Calypso saw a…rat." He improvised. "She scared me when she screamed so I dropped our drinks. I'll clean it up, just go back to your room." Tate's voice was so soft, and I found myself nodding along with his words even though they weren't addressed to me. Adelaide hovered in the doorway for a few silent seconds, before turning and walking away. As she did, I felt myself collapse again, this time sinking off the edge of the bed and onto the ground, my knees coming up to my chest as I hugged myself. "Calypso. What the hell happened?"

I shook my head, training my eyes onto the ground in front of me as I rocked gently back and forth. I didn't know how to tell him what I had seen. Even for Tate, this would be a little too crazy. I mean, saying that I had seen a…what…a ghost?

Was that what I had seen? I wasn't even sure myself.

I felt Tate slide down the bed next to me, and a gentle hand was placed on my arm. "It's going to be all right." Tate said. I nodded silently, hoping that he was right.

He wasn't.

For the next week nightmares drove away my sleep, waking me up with a scream stuck in my throat and sweat covering my body.

By the following Friday, I was sleep-deprived and angry. I don't what this lady wanted from me, but I was sick and tired of seeing her face in my dreams. I also wasn't sure why she scared me so much, but there was just something about her that left me filled with sadness every time that I saw her.

I knew I was going to sound crazy, but I had to tell Tate and figure this out. Just trying to ignore it was clearly not working, so it was time for a different approach.

I was sitting, once again, at the island in Tate's kitchen, perched on one of the bar stools, leaning my elbows onto the counter. Tate was making himself a sandwich. We had been talking about nothing in particular, considering that it was the end of the week and we had just had an entire walk home together to talk about our days at school.

"Tate." I said quietly when there was a lapse in the conversation. Tate hummed in response as he put his sandwich items away, letting me know that he had heard me. "I didn't see a rat. That day." I forced the words out before I could talk myself out of saying them.

I studied his reaction intensely, watching how he froze with his arm raised slightly from where he'd been about to put the butter back in the fridge. Slowly, he put the item away, closed the fridge and turned to me. He didn't say anything, but walked over and sat on the barstool next to mine.

I took that as an indication for me to continue.

"I saw…I saw…this…" The words got caught in my throat as I tried to say them, and I found myself being unable to make eye contact. "A lady." I finished lamely, glancing up at him. I didn't know what else to say, sure that I already sounded like some crazed idiot. Tate just nodded into the silence, no expression on his face. Finding the courage to continue, I opened my mouth again. "Pinned up, curled hair, beaded dress, necklace." I wasn't too sure why I was describing her, but somehow it helped. "I've drawn her before." I said. "Drawn her looking out of your bedroom window, Tate." I could see the slight surprise on his face at that statement.

I didn't blame him.

"And the dreams. Always screaming silently, this…this…this look in her eyes, like she's begging me for help. Tate, I've barely slept this past week. I don't know what to do." I could feel the tears beginning to well up in the backs of my eyes, and I hurried to turn away, blinking furiously. I didn't want to cry right now. I felt a warm hand on my back, and I made myself turn back to Tate, knowing I would have to face whatever it was that he said next.

"That would be Nora."


	14. Purposeful distance

The sound of Adelaide's voice had me turning around in my chair completely, Tate's hand dropping its comforting position on my back as he too turned to look at his sister.

"Nora?" I questioned. How did Adelaide know who I was talking about? How did she know this ladies name?

"Yeah. Nora Montgomery." Adelaide added on. Before I could ask her another question, like if she had seen her too, and how she knew this information, Adelaide had turned around and walked away. Well that was great.

"Who's Nora Montgomery?" I asked Tate, hoping that he would be able to give me some answers. I got nothing from him but a tight-lipped shrug. Not even his eyes gave anything away as they flicked away from me.

"I think you'd better go, Calypso." He finally said once silence had settled over us. I nodded stiffly, hurt, but in a way, unsurprised at this rejection. Grabbing my backpack from the ground at my feet, I hurried to get out of the house, not liking how it felt like someone was watching my every move all of a sudden.

I was missing part of the equation here, but I had no idea what it was. I didn't even know what to look for.

Tate avoided me for the next few days, leaving for school early, and heading home late so that he didn't have to walk with me. I understood that what I had said sounded a bit crazy, but the fact that his sister had seemed to know exactly what I was talking about was even weirder.

Plus, the fact that Tate would just up and ignore me like this hurt. I had thought that we were friends, but it appeared not.

I had almost reached home by this point, and routinely looked up at Tate's house as I walked past it, even stopping before it. Realising after a second that I was alone, and that there was nobody to say goodbye to, I began to turn away from the house, planning on heading home and eating away my problems. I didn't know what to do.

But a movement in the window caught my eye. Turning back, fear froze me to the cement below my feet at the sight of the woman…Nora…who was standing there, with those pleading eyes, mouth opened in a silent scream – but she was gesturing at me this time, like she had at the door to Tate's room. This time it seemed more frantic though, like she was begging me to come inside and help her.

I forced myself to turn away, tearing my eyes away from her and planting one foot in front of the other until I had managed to make my way to my own front door, through the house, up the stairs and to my own room. I collapsed onto the bed, hands shaking.

That was when I heard something break.

Well, crash was more accurate, but still, something had been broken, and now I could hear raised voices. This was not coming from my own home however. Moving slowly, I stood up from my bed, peeking out of my window and across to Tate's. I wasn't sure what to do. I could see him in there, pacing, a frustrated looking man standing at his door. No more words were passed for a few seconds, and then the man at the door, who I assumed to be Tate's father, slammed the door closed.

It was only now that I had realised that I had never met Tate's father, and that he had never mentioned him. Interesting. Maybe he just wasn't around a lot. With my messed-up family, who was I to judge?

I watched as Tate ran his fingers through his hair, eyes downcast – and then disappear from view. Quickly, I reached for the notebook and pen I now kept beside my window and scrawled out a quick message. It didn't take long for Tate to come back into view, it seemed like he was pacing. I held up the piece of paper, waiting for him to look up to see it.

When he finally did, he froze, eyes transfixed on the words on the page, and then flicking up to my face. He seemed almost shocked.

I'd written three simple words on that page, words that I would hope that he would still ask me if he saw anything like what I'd just seen. Tate seemed to consider for a few moments, his eyes flicking from the page, then back up to me. He walked closer to the window, and for a second I thought that he was going to draw the blinds closed on me, shutting me out once more.

Instead, he gently placed a hand on the glass, as if he was reaching out to me.

Raising my own hand, I did the same, watching as Tate smiled a little. It was smile, and seemed kind of forced, but he was accepting the olive branch and letting me back in. That was all that I cared about right now. With a stiff nod, Tate removed his hand, and then closed the blinds, leaving me blinking at a window filled with white.

I dropped the notebook back onto the window sill and moved away from the window, opting to collapse back onto my bed. Dragging a pillow closer, I curled up a little as I began to think.

I wanted to be able to help Tate with what he was going through, and if this was what was going on for him right now, I could understand his behaviour over the past few days. What I didn't understand was why he had felt like he couldn't tell me. I'd certainly unloaded enough of my problems onto him, so it seemed only fair that he should be able to do the same. He was a pretty private person though. Maybe he just didn't want to talk about it. I could understand that too.

My thoughts drifted to Nora, about how she had appeared in the window – the fear and sadness that came with her leaving me paralysed out on the street for a few solid seconds. And that was when I realised. Maybe that was what she had been trying to tell me.

She had been gesturing urgently at me to come into the house, like she needed help. But maybe it wasn't her that had needed help after all. Maybe it was Tate who needed help.


	15. Heeding a warning

**A/N:**

Hey there!

So I've had a bit of a hiatus - sorry 'bout that, but I've been swamped with end of year assignments that are still ongoing, but here's a lil' chapter for y'all.

Thanks for being patient with me ^^

* * *

Two days had passed without incident. I'd been watching carefully.

I knew what it was like to be in that kind of environment and how it could affect someone. I knew how it could make you feel worthless and small, as if you could do nothing right. Left alone too long in a space like that and you'd wind up changing into a completely different person.

I couldn't let that happen to Tate. Not after all that he'd done for me, and so I had vowed to myself that I would do whatever I could to improve his situation.

I'd dragged him along to gatherings with Kaleb and Janet, made our study sessions at cafes instead of our houses, been just late enough getting out of school that he would still be waiting, but almost about to go and generally just trying to get him out of the house. I also hadn't mentioned what I'd seen.

From previous experience talking about his family, I figured that, at the moment, Tate probably wouldn't be very receptive to hearing what I wanted to tell him.

I just hoped that my actions spoke loud enough that my absence of words didn't matter.

It was dark outside, and I was getting ready to go to a party. Kaleb and Janet had insisted I come, claiming that we hadn't hung out enough recently, partially true, and said that I had been too stressed lately and needed to have some fun. They weren't wrong.

I was standing at the full length mirror that leant against the wall beside my easel, checking over my outfit. A black skirt with a green crop top and black, heeled boots. I'd even put on some mascara.

Satisfied with how I looked, and knowing that I was technically running late, I turned away from the mirror, reaching for my bag that sat on my bed.

Before I could pick it up however, the sound of a slamming door had me flinching. The unexpected sound sent chills through me and I hurried to the window, worry beginning to pool in my chest. Tate's blinds were closed, but I could see two shapes moving about the room. I assumed it was Tate and his father.

I could hear raised voices, and some more banging, but couldn't quite make out what was going on. I hesitated by the window, debating what to do. Was it really my place to get involved? But did Tate need someone to step in for him? I didn't know.

And then my decision was made for me, because there was Nora, somehow visible to me despite the closed blinds, her sad eyes calling to me and pale hands gesturing like crazy.

Frozen for only a second, I turned and snatched my bag from the bed, and hurried out of my room, practically sprinting down the stairs and past Pete who barely glanced up at me as I exited through the front door.

Walking quickly over to Tate's house, I forced myself to knock loudly on the front door before I could stop and rethink my decision.

As I let my hand drop back to my side, I suddenly realised that I had no idea what I was going to say. I hadn't really been thinking about what I was doing and could very likely just be making things worse by doing this. Beginning to mentally berate myself for knocking on the door, I debated whether or not to just turn around and walk away as the door still didn't open.

But then that decision was made for me as well.

The man that I had assumed was Tate's father opened the door.

I plastered a smile onto my face. "Hi there." I greeted sunnily, eyes flicking past him as a figure emerged, walking down the stairs. It was Tate.

"What do you want?" The man was blunt, making me frown slightly.

"I was hoping to talk to Tate." I said, "We're supposed to be heading to a friend's place for a group assignment." I added on, hoping that I sounded at least slightly convincing.

"You wear that to study?" I got a once over from Tate's father and that was when I officially decided that he had no redeeming qualities.

"I had a family dinner just before, didn't have time to change. Look, I'm already late, I just need to know if Tate's coming." I lost my sunny disposition and returned the bluntness.

"I'm coming. Be right down." Tate called from the stairs. I glanced at him and nodded, stepping back away from the door and turned my back on his father, no longer wanting to have to deal with him.

And I thought that my family was bad.

A couple seconds later I could hear the sound of Tate's footsteps running down the stairs and then he was beside me on the front steps, and we were walking away down the footpath and away from the house.

"Thanks." Tate said quietly after a few moments of walking in silence. I just nodded. "Are we really going to study?" He asked after another few moments.

"Hell no. We're going to a party and you're getting super drunk. You deserve it." I said, allowing a small smile to rise on my face as I linked my arm with his, squeezing his arm lightly. I hoped that I could convey everything that I wanted to say to him in that one movement, but I doubted it.

I wanted to tell him that I was sorry that he was going through what he was going through. I wanted to tell him that I knew what that was like and that it would get better. I wanted to tell him that I was here for him, no matter what. I wanted to tell him that he was good enough, that he mattered. I wanted to say thank you for all the times that he had helped me. I wanted him to know that now it was my turn to help him.

I tried to put all of that into that one small squeeze on his arm, but when he lightly squeezed my hand back, I got the feeling he was just grateful someone had gotten him out of the house.


	16. Rooftop party

Tate was drunk. Completely and totally blackout drunk.

He was also missing.

I'd enlisted a slightly tipsy Kaleb and Janet to help, but I doubted that they were going to have much luck. For one, there was their inebriated state, and the second, Tate seemed to be hiding on purpose. He was in none of the darkened corners, or the darkened rooms. He also wasn't clutching a toilet bowl, which was somewhat impressive considering the amount he'd had to drink.

I pushed past a particularly…busy…couple as I exited the house through the front door. The party was happening in the expansive backyard, and so there wasn't much to see out here except for the stars in the night sky and a few beer cans.

Almost beginning to regret bringing Tate now, and worry slowly growing in the pit of my stomach, I sighed and turned to go back inside. Another sweep of the house wouldn't hurt. He had to be here somewhere.

As I turned to go back inside however, my eyes drifted up towards the roof, and both relief and fear washed through me in a confusing wave.

I had finally found Tate, which was good, however, he was also walking along the edge of the roof, which wasn't so good. Not wanting to yell out and startle him in case he was to fall, I searched for how he had managed to get up there in the first place. I quickly found a ladder leaning up against the side of the house and made my way over to it.

Climbing up the ladder was the easy part. Climbing across the roof was not so easy.

Eventually I managed to get closer to Tate, who had finally noticed me, and was standing, with his hands in his pockets, watching me as I struggled along the slippery tiles.

"Hey." I greeted as I got within talking distance, slowly lowering myself down so that I was sitting. Much more stable. Tate looked down at me without moving. I blinked up at him for a second, before turning my gaze further up towards the stars. "Lots of stars tonight." I commented.

If I was being completely honest, I had absolutely no idea what to do. My friend was drunk and standing on top of a roof, apparently not saying anything. What the hell was I supposed to do with him?

 _Save him._

The two words came unbidden into my head, almost as if they had been whispered into my ear, but they felt right, as if it was what I was supposed to do.

Carefully I reached up a hand, not taking my eyes away from the stars. "Come sit with me Tate." I said, hoping that he would. At least sitting there was not as much chance of him falling.

I almost jumped as a warm hand clasped mine, and then Tate was indeed sitting beside me, his arm brushing against mine as we looked at the stars. I didn't know a lot about stars, but now seemed to be one of those times where it would have been nice to know about stars, simply so you could tell the person you were with a little fact about the solar system or point out a constellation. Yeah, that would be nice.

"Calypso…thanks." I barely heard Tate's quiet whisper, but I turned my gaze from the stars to him as he lightly squeezed my hand.

"Of course, Tate. That's what friends are for." I replied. Worry still gnawed at the edges of my mind, mainly because I knew that Tate would soon have to return to that house, and there was nothing that I could do to stop it. I didn't even know how to ask him about it. He clearly needed help, but the question was if he would let me help him. Somehow, I doubted it, but I also knew that I would do everything in my power to try.

"Friend. It's an interesting word." Tate mused, finally looking down from the stars and out towards the street below us. "You're the first real friend I've had, Calypso. For a while at least." He continued in that same quiet voice that seemed to float just loud enough to hear, but quiet enough you almost doubted it.

"Come on," I tried to keep my voice light as I knocked my shoulder against his, "that can't be true." The flat look Tate turned on me had me swallowing my next words, my thin attempt at a small falling from my face. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. You've got me now and I'm here to stay." I said matter-of-factly, willing both Tate and myself to believe the words.

Tate didn't bother to reply.

Silence stretched, and the night air began to grow colder. Finally, I suggested that we go home, only slightly surprised when Tate readily agreed. I stood, releasing his hand which I hadn't realised I'd been holding the entire time, as I did. When I reached the ladder, I turned to climb down, only to stop in shock.

Tate was standing at the edge of the roof again, looking down at the ground below. He swayed forward slightly as a gust of wind blew past, seeming to blow right through him, but leaving me shivering.

"Tate." I called softly, preparing myself to bolt across the roof. When he didn't move, I stepped back up onto the roof, reaching out with both hands as if I could reach him from where I was standing. "Tate." His name came out again, without me meaning to, but this time it got his attention. He turned towards me slightly, paused, seemed to shake himself slightly, and then turned fully towards me. A sigh of relief rushed out of me, and my now shaking hands slowly lowered back to my sides.

Back home, I lay in bed, my thoughts running wild around my head. I needed to keep a closer eye on Tate. We all did. I refused to let him do something stupid, something he would regret. The how was going to be harder, but I hoped that by giving him some support, and letting him know that he wasn't alone would be a step in the right direction.

It took a while, but when I finally drifted off to sleep, Nora plagued my dreams again. Except this time, she wasn't screaming, begging me to do something. This time she smiled. It was only slight, and sadness still shone from her eyes, but there seemed to be a little less grief, and a bit more hope.

It appeared I'd done something right.


	17. Hope for Justice

A few weeks passed, and things appeared to be looking up. I was on top of my study for once, mum and I were getting along, Tate seemed as happy as he normally was, which wasn't a lot, and I hadn't seen Nora in a while either. Something I figured was a good sign.

But, as all good things must, this soon ended.

It ended on a Tuesday afternoon as I waited for Tate at the front gates of our school. He was running later than normal, and I was growing impatient. Deciding that he could walk home himself if he was going to take that long, I slowly began walking down the footpath away from the school. At least it was a nice day.

The sound of the school doors crashing open stopped me. I was preparing a witty remark about his time management skills when I turned and realised that it wasn't Tate walking through the doors, but a group of jocks. The same four that had tried to follow Tate after school before I'd stepped in and confronted them. This wasn't good.

I could tell by the smirks on their faces, and the way they jostled each other as they walked down the front steps that they'd been up to something. Their sudden silence and side-long glances as they walked by me told me it had to do with Tate. Immediately I walked back through the front gates and into the school. Figuring I could start at his locker, I headed down the hallway and tried to lock into the surrounding classrooms. Somewhat difficult considering most of them were locked.

There was no sign of Tate.

Hoping he might be in either the gym or cafeteria I headed further into the school, trying to think like a jock to guess where they'd put and what they'd done to Tate.

I ended up empty-handed in my search of both locations and had only just had the bright idea to try and call Tate to see where he was, when I literally ran straight into him. Almost falling over, I quickly recovered, but then stood frozen when I saw Tate's face.

He had a split lip and one eye was half-shut, the swelling already obvious. It would be black in an hour.

"Oh my god." The whispered exclamation left me without thought, and I could feel the horror on my face. Tate stood in front of me, looking at the ground, a small smile playing on his bruised lips. I didn't know how he could be smiling in this situation, but he was. Anger suddenly filled me. "Why are you smiling?" I demanded, "After what they did? Why aren't you angry?"

"Because it doesn't matter, Calypso. It doesn't matter."

I pushed past him, walking quickly, anger still pulsing through me. I didn't acknowledge Tate as he followed along beside me. I was angry at him. I was also angry at the people who had done this to him, but in a way, I was angrier with Tate because he felt like it didn't matter. It mattered a lot. He needed to report this, to show those jocks that they couldn't just pick on whoever they wanted.

We reached the street light on the corner in record time, and I was about to just continue walking straight up my front lawn, when I turned back and stared at Tate. He was watching me with a slightly amused expression.

"Why?" I questioned. "Why do you think it doesn't matter?"

"Because I got them on video." Tate replied. Confusion filled me. "No one would believe my word against theirs, Calypso. I needed proof. This time I got it." Here Tate pulled out his phone, pressed a couple of buttons and then displayed the screen to me. Indeed, it was a video of the four jocks ganging up on Tate.

I breathed a sigh of relief. So he was going to do something about it. Good.

"You okay?" I let my grip on the anger loosen, and then fade away all together with those two words. Tate nodded. "Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow."

I had faith that when Tate showed the video to the principal, that these bullies would be properly punished. There was no way that anyone could deny what had happened. I went to bed peacefully that night, the knowledge that justice would be served soothing me.

Turns out I was wrong.


End file.
